I absolutely adore my goddaughter. I practically raised her, because she has this sociopathic mother, former (thank God) monster stepfather, and her biological father abandoned her after conception. She lived with me for a year before her father came back into her life who now has temporary custody of her. I am happy that he came back for her after 12 years, but I miss her terribly. He reluctantly allows me to see her 2 or 3 times a month, for which I am grateful, but my heart breaks because I don’t have the daily contact I used to have. He is very strict and does not allow her to have a phone, email, or Facebook. Things aren’t great in the new family, but he is 10 times better for her than her mother.
She called tonight. She wanted to know if I would be coming to her basketball game tomorrow night. Of course I am. I haven’t missed a single game. I will drop everything to see this child. I cherish her immensely. God gave her to me to look after, to rescue, to nurture, and to love in the midst of some very ugly circumstances. I cannot accept that my job is done. Taking a back seat is one of the hardest things I have ever had to do. She is my precious child, who doesn’t belong to me. My heart aches.
Okay, so I’m retired and married to an artist, and I need to make some money. But being “sandwiched” in between taking care of my parents and dealing with kids, I don’t really have the time or energy. I know I wrote that we had no children, but God thought it was funny, I guess, for us to have so flippantly made that decision on our own, so He gave us godchildren. And not just any ol’ godchildren, mind you, but godchildren who have immature, dysfunctional, destructive parents, which is why the poor dears need godparents. But that’s a story for a future post. Anyway, I can’t draw from my retirement yet, and I need some income. I’m too old and tired to start a new career. My back won’t allow me to stand on my feet all day. I need to be available to take my mom where she needs to go (doctor, to visit my dad in the nursing home, etc.). I know there are others in this position, because I hear and read about the “sandwich generation”. But are they all financially stable and/or still working? Am I the only one with an artist husband? Am I the only one who had to leave their job at age 53? Harkening back to the 70s – – follow your passion, check. All you need is love, check. Work hard, check. What was missing? Don’t be self employed and don’t get sick. Oops. Suggestions would be most welcome. Meanwhile, anybody interested in buying some art?
Gee! Who knew that simply writing a self-serving blog, that no one reads, would make me feel better? So I cancelled the counseling appointment and will tough it out. Truth is – I don’t need to spend the money. I hate not having all that discretionary income that boomers are supposed to have. Having gone from earning two incomes (my husband’s and mine) to a half an income (my husband’s… the artist), we are now poor. Who woulda thought? Not me. As a baby boomer, I thought we ruled and always would. Medical problems? Economic woes? Declining business? That all happened to someone else. But I digress. I must keep focusing on the fact that I AM A BOOMER! There is power in the word. There is an energy, an insight, a force that drives us to set trends and basically rule. Right? It’s sorta like being a Kennedy. We are just… well, special. Okay, well, there are just so many of us, we cannot be ignored. Fine. We rule by numbers. It’s enough to keep me going into my retirement years, even if I can’t get my nails done anymore.
Bear with me; I’m new at this. I was inspired by the movie Julie and Julia; although I’ve been rolling the idea around in my head. I originally considered writing a book, but I couldn’t publish it without the key players being identified, so I blew that off. Still needing an outlet, I am going for the blog. I hope it will be less expensive than a professional therapist; although I did make an appointment today for next week. If this goes well, I will cancel it.
Basically, I am a mess. And probably narcissistic. Yet I am smart – no, well-read – enough to know that self expression is a healthy thing. If this blog doesn’t last very long, it’s because it worked. If it goes on too long, then I will reschedule that appointment.
Okay, so my husband and I are baby boomer dinks (double income no kids). Well, we used to be. In the glorious 80s. Things changed. And I am ticked off.